Lifespan of Starlight (15 page)

‘Scout, you don’t have to pay me back.’ Gently Mum tugs, trying to turn me around.
I stay where I am. ‘You owe me nothing, understand?’

‘But I
want
to –’

‘Listen.’

‘Just this once.’

‘Scout,
listen
.’

This time when she tugs on my shoulders, I turn slowly.

‘I went to see Dr Ryan the other day.’ A slow sigh. ‘The one who signed the termination
papers when I was pregnant?’ Mum’s voice goes softer as she speaks, as if the words
are difficult for her, even now.

‘He’s agreed to insert the chip, and use the new fading procedure for the scar. We
can trust him, more or less. But … his price.’ Mum inhales slowly. ‘He’s asking for
a hundred thousand credits.’

‘What?’

‘I know. He’s risking more this time around, and I suppose … he’s not stupid. And
what are we going to do? Go shopping for a lower bribe?’

I lean backwards against the bench, all my plans slipping away. Her birthday dinner,
the hair treatment …

‘We need to save every credit we can from now on. I’m sorry, I should have told you
already.’ Her face brightens, maybe a little too much. ‘But hey, why waste credits
on a haircut, hey? It’s just going to grow back.’

She chuckles at her own joke, but I’m not ready to join in yet. So many credits,
just to fade a stupid scar.

‘But maybe …’ I choose my words carefully. ‘Maybe there’s no reason to pay the bribe.
I’ve been fine without it in my wrist so far.’

She’s trying to understand, I can tell, but she has no idea. ‘Scout, you’re going
to Karoly High School! So from now on, you’ll need to think, act …
look
like a citizen.’

‘Yes, but I’m doing that already. I even managed my first ever friend link.’ I could
keep going, but I don’t. I never would have made it back to my cave that time if
I were stuck with the chip in my wrist. The more I think about this, the more I think
it would be useful to be able to drop off the grid every now and then.

‘Listen,’ Mum slides an arm around my waist, stepping beside me, ‘we don’t have to
book in with Dr Ryan straight away. All I’m saying is that we should save our credits.
And even if we don’t need them for the bribe, then we might …’ As she inhales, there’s
a slight catch in the flow, ‘… we might need them for other reasons.’

She has plans that she’s not giving away, I can tell. A new place to live, maybe.
A hundred thousand credits could go a long way. But I decide not to push it for now.
‘Okay.’

We still go out for the movie that night, but it’s not quite the mood I was aiming
for. Throughout the whole evening Mum keeps fading into a sort of fog, forcing her
expression to lift whenever she sees me watching.

It’s only when Mum’s about to wave off the lamp later that night that she finally
says, ‘Thanks, by the way. The hair treatment? It was a thoughtful gift.’

I finger the corner of the doona, not looking at her. It’s not going to be a gift
anymore.

The bed rocks gently as Mum rolls my way. ‘Stop thinking about paying me back. I’m
your mum, Coutlyn. And you’re my daughter. Some things only work in one direction.’

Like time travel, perhaps
, I want to say, but don’t.

She reaches out and her hand brushes my shoulder before pulling back. ‘I had a choice,
okay? And I’d do it again in a flash. But it was my choice, not yours. You had no
choice. The sacrifices I’ve made are not your fault, okay?’

She doesn’t wait for me to say anything, just waves the lamp off and snuggles in.

I turn mine off too, but I don’t sleep for a while. That phrase keeps going over
and over in my mind.
You had no choice.

It’s after four on a Friday when I rest my bike in the shade against the garage wall.
It’s so stinking hot that I feel like the rubber of the tyres might go soft and sticky.
The back of my shirt is wet when I pull off my backpack so I stay in the shade
and
suck down half my water bottle before gulping for breath. I end up with a noseful
of thick, sweet air from a honeysuckle bush growing near the door.

It’s been hot every day of the two weeks since my first jump with Mason. We can return
within seconds of each other now. I haven’t told Mason that I can’t jump any further
than a minute, but it doesn’t seem to matter. And anyway, I’m in no hurry for longer
jumps. The further ahead he goes when I don’t, the closer we become in age.

I’m able to drop into the tunnel faster now, too. It takes only a few seconds for
me to sink, but I’m nowhere near as fast as Mason. He can do it in the space of a
breath; just closes his eyes, and he’s gone.

He’s getting more accurate with his time away, and already I can feel him moving
on. That’s how it works with Mason, I’ve realised. He obsesses about a goal as if
nothing else in the world exists but the instant he achieves it, he moves on to the
next.

We haven’t spoken it about it openly, but I think I can pick the next obsession.
If I’m right, it’s the ultimate goal, the reason behind all the others.

The side door to his garage is slightly open when I knock. No answer comes, so I
knock again. Wait some more. He’s letting all the heat in.

‘Mason?’ I slide the door further open and stick my head in, enjoying a breeze from
the air-con. The room’s empty.

I’m three cautious steps inside, dumbly peering around, when Mason’s shape appears
from thin air in front of me.

‘Boo!’ he shouts, before stumbling sideways.

A gasp escapes with a squeak of surprise. One hand slaps over my mouth. It’s just
Mason messing around. He managed to jump and land from standing – way impressive
– but I’m not about to cheer him for it.

Mason’s shoulders jiggle with laughter. ‘Gotcha, didn’t I?’

I breathe out, head shaking. ‘Just you wait, I’ll get you back.’ Pretty sure I must
be bright red, and not just because of the heat. I grab the blanket from the floor
and throw it at him as hard as I can. He catches it easily and wraps it around his
waist, grinning madly at me the whole time.

Something causes the door to move and a gust of hot air makes us turn.

‘Heeee-ey.’ It’s Boc, his one word starting out high but then dropping in tone when
he sees me.

‘Hey,’ Mason and I say at the same time, but our words come rushed and it suddenly
feels as if we’ve been caught out.

‘Hey, mate,’ Mason says again, grabbing his shorts from the couch. I get the sense
that he’s adjusting, shifting in a way that he doesn’t need to when I’m around.

Boc crosses his arms. ‘Been skipping again?’ Beads of sweat stand out on his hairline.

‘Yeah, heaps.’ Mason gestures my way as he steps out from behind the couch, shorts
thankfully on now. ‘And Scout too.’

At that, Boc’s eyes move to me and stay there as if taking me in for the first time.
It makes me want to look away but I force myself to meet his gaze.

‘You’ve been time skipping too?’ His eyes narrow thoughtfully.

‘Yeah, sometimes.’ My eyes drop without my permission, so I bring them up again.

He seems confused. ‘Really?’

I’m not sure what else to say. I hug my arms against my chest.

‘Anyway,’ Boc turns back to Mason,‘I was going to ask if you want to come climbing
with me and Amon again?’

Mason glances at me. ‘Bit hot.’

‘There’s a cool change due tonight. We’re meeting tomorrow at two.’ Boc lets his
arms drop. ‘Training at the climbing centre, and then drinks at the end.’

A shrug from Mason. He doesn’t seem overly keen. ‘Sure. I guess.’

‘Come on, Mase. Forget about last time. You just need some practice.’

‘Is that all? Co-ordination might come in handy too.’ Mason laughs.

Boc’s face changes completely as he grins, and finally the room loses some tension.
I swipe the back of my neck with a hand. I’m still sort of sweaty even though it’s
cooler inside.

‘Okay. Good.’ Mason says finally. ‘Want to join us now?’

For some reason it feels strange with Boc here. I’m wondering if I should go, but
Boc shakes his head. ‘Nah. Catch you.’ A glance my way, and then he’s through the
door with another gust of hot air.

A waft of honeysuckle lingers after the door closes behind him.

‘Did he go because of me?’ I ask after a moment of silence.

‘Nah,’ Mason says, but he doesn’t sound convincing. I can’t help thinking that Boc
could have called or sent a message to ask Mason about climbing. It’s as if he dropped
round to hang, then changed his mind.

‘Want a drink?’

‘Nah, thanks.’ One hand pushes into my backpack and finds the smooth shape of the
water bottle. I pull it out.

‘Come on. That must be five hundred degrees.’

Head shaking. ‘I’m okay.’

Already Mason’s swiping the fridgepad, pulling out two cans. I get this rich blast
of coolness before he shuts the door.

‘Here, try this.’ He holds out a can. ‘Bet you’ve never tried sherbet blast? It was
all the rage last year.’

Again my head shakes but it’s slower this time, more cautious, because I’m getting
the feeling that he really wants me to take it; he’s not just being polite. And he’s
right, I’ve never tried sherbet blast. But not because I was time skipping when it
was released. We’ve just never had credits for fads like that.

Mason lifts my hand and makes a point of wrapping my fingers and palm around it.
It’s so cold that droplets of moisture are already forming on the outside. I look
from the can in my hand up to Mason’s face.

My shoulder lifts in apology because I’m still not sure what to do. When you see
couples sharing rations, that’s when you know it’s serious, intimate. Like sharing
blood, or something.

‘Do this.’ He holds up his can as if it’s a demo model and
cracks it open. ‘And then
do this.’ He takes a sip, swallows and lets out an
ahhh
. ‘It’s not that difficult,
Scout.’

‘I didn’t swipe.’

‘You don’t have to.’ It’s with a tinge of impatience.

What a strange sensation this is, as if it’s happening to someone else. I fumble
with the catch as I crack it open, turning it into a joke. ‘Like this?’

Mason’s mouth forms a pout, assessing my technique. ‘Very good. And now …’

As he takes another sip, I do the same. Immediately I get this explosion of fizz.
My eyes go wide with shock as Mason cracks up.

‘Good, huh?’

‘Mmm.’ My eyes are watering but I’m grinning too. We drop our arms at the same time
and beam at each other.

He’s still watching as I take my final sip, when –
tsst
–everything goes black and
suddenly it’s eerily quiet.

Mason swears under his breath as my eyes adjust to the only light filtering through
the high window. The electricity has cut out.

‘Y
OU OKAY?’ MASON
asks, just an outline in the dim light of his garage.

‘Yep.’

‘Juice better not be out all night.’

It’s only when his compad sounds that I realise his parents mustn’t be home. Mason’s
busy promising that he’s all right when my compad beeps.

‘Where are you?’ Mum asks as soon as I answer.

‘I’m fine. At Mason’s.’

‘They’re saying it’s almost the whole city.’

‘Fantastic.’

‘Might take them a while to fix this one, so I want you to stay put. Okay?’

Smartcars still work, of course, but they can’t recharge, so taxis get overbooked
and take hours – if you’re lucky enough to get one. Plus, the backup generator for
the public transport system has a habit of breaking down every time they have to
use it.

Some people died from heat exhaustion a year ago when their train broke down in the
underground loop.

‘I have my bike –’

‘No way. I don’t want you out at all, understand? Bad things happen when there’s
a blackout. Can I speak to Mason’s mum or dad?’

‘They’re not here.’

‘Ask them to call me when they get in?’

‘Okay.’

It takes a few more rounds before she signs off, so when I hit disconnect Mason’s
already finished.

‘All okay?’ I ask. Already the burn of outside is threatening to seep in.

‘Yeah.’ Slowly he breathes out. ‘This is going to suck.’ He reaches for the fridgepad
and does a test swipe. Of course, nothing happens. ‘Can’t believe there’s still no
backup for the ration sensors.’

Mason collects torches from upstairs and positions them around the room. Then he
starts pacing restlessly, a leopard trying to think his way out of a cage.

The whole ration system shuts down whenever the power cuts out, even water rations.
Especially water, actually. Their security locks are so tight that there’s no way
around it without power so whenever there’s a blackout, the stress levels in the
city rise like heat off the pavement.

A couple of years back, most of the northern suburbs went without water for three
whole days. Nearly a quarter of the
city’s population was forced to move in with
friends and family. They sent out these huge water trucks with armed guards for the
people who had nowhere else to stay. The whole city went totally stir crazy, there
were twice as many car accidents because tempers were so frayed. The Richardsons
had their daughter and son-in-law move in with them, just one room for four people.